


cicatrise

by flamiekitten



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gaara is the King of Motivational Speeches, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Post-War, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 08:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17321900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamiekitten/pseuds/flamiekitten
Summary: cicatrise(v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars.





	cicatrise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YZYdragon2222](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YZYdragon2222/gifts).



> This is my gift for [yzy-sunagakure](https://yzy-sunagakure.tumblr.com/), as part of the [Naruto Secret Santa 2018](https://narutosecretsanta.tumblr.com/). The prompt was "NaruGaa postwar hurt/comfort". 
> 
> Happy Christmas! I'm sorry that this is a little late, but I hope you enjoy your gift! I've been writing these boys for years, but this is the first time I've been able to complete a fic with them, so thank you for providing me with the opportunity!
> 
> And a big thank you to my wife and to akizukisakura, for all of your words of motivation and encouragement. ♥

There’s a saying amongst the veteran shinobi: “after the battle ends, the real fight begins.”

He’s starting to see the truth in those words.

In the midst of war, there’s not enough time to dwell on the little details. Stripped of your humanity, you’re reduced into a living weapon -- a blade that must strike without hesitation. High tension makes for quick decisions. All trains of thought narrow down to just two basic concepts: 

Defeat the enemy. Stay alive.

Though your allies, your comrades -- your _friends_ \-- may be cut down before your eyes, you must not falter. No choice but to carry on, less you wish their sacrifice to be in vain. It’s only later, when it’s all over, that you are finally given the chance to mourn.

The dead, the wounded, and the missing; their names fill neat columns on a new scroll delivered to his tent every morning. A list that grows longer by the day. Gaara refuses to allow the letters to blur into one. Each name is given individual attention, matched to faces and voices and families and ambitions as best his memory permits. As Kage of perhaps the smallest Hidden Village, he’d had the unique privilege of being able to interact with many of the residents of Sunagakure on a daily basis. More than that -- he’d _wanted_ to. The shift in atmosphere around Gaara and the villagers -- from tension and fear and hate, to respect and trust and admiration -- had only come to fruition after months of patience and dedication.

Such dedication is now cruelly fashioned into a double-edged sword; every recognised name brings with it a fresh stab of grief.

He can picture the day of their arrival. Eager eyes searching for familiar faces within the vastly diminished crowd, refusing to accept the truth behind their absence. Parents, grandparents, children, siblings, spouses, friends, lovers. Entire family lines scrubbed from existence. If the current reports are accurate, close to ninety percent of the Allied Shinobi Forces were wiped out. There isn’t a single person waiting at home who won’t be affected in some way by this sheer loss of life.

Gaara rolls up the list and leans over the table, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. He’s both tired -- _an understatement, really_ \-- and restless. His sleeping habits once again verge on non-existent; not since sharing headspace with Shukaku has he suffered from such a cacophony of thoughts. Records and preparations, treaties and negotiations, commendations and condolences. How best to restructure the village with such a reduced population, how to accommodate the approaching influx of war orphans and sufferers of PTSD, how to maintain good relationships with the other nations without the uniting factor of a common enemy, how to--

‘Oh, it’s Naruto!’

‘Hey, Naruto! What’re you doing up and about?’

‘Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be in the med tent?’

‘I can’t just sit around and do nothing while you guys are working so hard, ’ttbayo!’

‘Does Sakura-san know?’

‘Shhh! She’ll kick my ass if she finds out I’m here!’

Warm, rough, familiar laughter. The sound pierces through the murk of his thoughts like sunlight breaking through clouds. Gaara releases the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding -- and along with it some of the tension that had been tying knots in the pit of his stomach. Cut loose from the anchor of his obligations, he drifts to his feet and across the floor. From the tent flap, Gaara is able to survey the campsite: all able-bodied shinobi are hard at work, busily constructing the foundations of their future.

It doesn’t take long for Gaara to spot him: a flash of trademark orange amid green, grey, and beige. He’s standing nearby, all beaming smiles and big gestures, amongst a handful of ninja from various villages. From this epicentre of light and life, a wave of energy ripples throughout the camp. Despite lacking his chakra cloak, Naruto’s mere presence seems to brighten the atmosphere -- even those not in direct contact with him gain a spring in their step.

By attitude alone, it might appear as though the war never happened for Naruto -- though he’s currently more bandage than human being. Gaara watches him interact with his fellow shinobi, catches the tail end of cracked jokes and fragments of encouragement, and the ghost of a smile freezes on his lips. 

Something’s not right.

It’s subtle, well-masked -- something a casual acquaintance would never be able to pick up on. 

But Gaara notices. 

Notices how the smiles, no matter how warm or genuine, never quite reach his eyes. Notices the underlying tension in his voice and mannerisms, everything a little _too_ exaggerated to be natural. Notices -- or perhaps simply recognises -- just how _tired_ Naruto is. 

He recalls, with abrupt clarity, the appearance of one Haruno Sakura just a few days after the end of the war. She'd pressed a small scroll into his palm, her smile tight with tension and worry. 

_It's about Naruto._ Reading more like a personal note than an official report, the scroll had detailed her concerns regarding his recovery and behaviour. _He’s not sleeping properly. He keeps trying to get out of bed -- he wants to “do things”, wants to help out. Knowing him, he’s going to keep on shouldering everyone’s dreams and expectations -- even though he’s done so much already. Even if it makes him sick. I know it’s not his injuries that are the problem, but he won’t talk to me about what’s bothering him. I don’t know what to do._

Gaara steps out into the milling crowd, nodding politely in response to every, ‘ _good morning, Kazekage-sama!_ ’, but not letting them distract him from his goal. He makes a beeline for Naruto’s location, all thoughts of _lists_ and _plans_ and _responsibilities_ put to one side for now. 

While he may be unable to help himself, perhaps he _can_ help Naruto.

They meet eyes when he’s just a few feet away and Gaara almost falters when the full brunt of that smile is turned on him. Even when not at its true strength, it’s enough to send a flush of heat rolling throughout his body. But up close, the evidence of exhaustion is even more apparent: a pallor overcast on normally golden features.

‘Yo, Gaara!’

‘May I speak with you, Uzumaki Naruto?’

Now it appears to be Naruto’s turn to falter as he scratches at a whiskered cheek.

‘You don't hafta be so formal, ’ttbayo. ’Course we can talk.’

‘Thank you.’ Gaara bows to the gathered shinobi, who had been watching the exchange with a variety of expressions. Mostly amusement. ‘Excuse me. I will be borrowing Naruto for a moment.’

When nobody protests -- he _is_ the Kazekage, after all -- Gaara turns on his heel and briskly leaves the scene, trusting Naruto to follow. The bewilderment in Naruto's tone as he excuses himself makes Gaara wonder if he had perhaps been a little abrupt, but it’s too late to worry about that now. 

The dry grass rustles behind Gaara as Naruto jogs to catch up to his determined stride and then falls into step beside him. The sight of the two of them strolling side-by-side through the camp turns more than a few inquisitive heads.

‘So -- what d’you wanna talk about?’ 

‘Mmm. Not here.’

‘Uhhhh.... Okay. Lead the way, then.’

They lapse into -- not wholly uncomfortable -- silence, though Naruto’s curiosity is almost palpable in every sideways glance Gaara catches out of the corners of his eye. Undeterred, he continues to “lead the way”, making his way through the gradually thinning crowds and clusters of tents until they reach the forest on the eastern outskirts of the camp. And further still, into the forest itself, until the hustle and bustle of human life is eclipsed by breeze and birdsong. Morning sunlight filters through the canopies as droplets of gold amongst the lush green, and Gaara allows the pace to slow into a more casual stroll. Here, away from it all, he feels like he can breathe a little easier.

To his credit, Naruto manages to last for another few minutes of silence before he finally cracks. 

‘Where are we g--’

‘How are you, Naruto?’ 

‘H… Huh?’ 

Gaara slows to a stop, gaze drifting from the patches of blue sky up above to the pair of sky blue eyes blinking at him in bafflement.

‘How are you?’ he repeats, maintaining that level stare.

Slowly, the confusion morphs into disbelief and twin spots of pink blossom on Naruto’s cheeks. 

‘We walked all the way out here, just so that you could ask that?’ 

‘Mmm.’ It’s not the entire truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either.

Naruto laughs, and it’s not the boisterous chuckle from when he was joking around with the other shinobi, but something... softer. More authentic.

‘I’m fine, ’ttbayo! I know I look like a mess now, but Sakura-chan reckons I’ll be all healed up in another week -- Kurama’s helping out -- and Tsunade-baachan even said something about usin’ _mokuton_ to fix up my arm, but I don’t know if I wanna--’

‘Though I am pleased to hear about your recovery...’ Gaara does his best to avoid dwelling on the subject of Naruto’s arm; recalling the circumstances that resulted in its current condition will only serve to make him angry. He folds his own arms. ‘... I was not referring to your physical state.’ 

‘I don’t get it.’ Naruto’s nose and brow crinkle. ‘What _do_ you mean, then?’

Neither of them suit subtlety. Gaara's natural inclination is to be blunt and straightforward, rather than mask his true thoughts behind pleasantries and pretences. And for all of Uzumaki Naruto’s wonderful qualities, it’s abundantly clear that “decoding the subtext within a conversation” is not one of them. 

‘Naruto, I--’

For an instant, Gaara is back in the perpetual winter of the Land of Iron. The wind is cold and the glaze over Naruto’s expression is colder still, arm still held aloft from when he’d knocked Gaara’s aside. Though they’re standing less than a foot apart, the emotional rift created by the weight of Gaara’s words seems to stretch for miles between them. While he’d meant exactly what he’d said -- and could not, _would not_ take it any of it back -- the knowledge that he’d caused Naruto further pain had then dogged every step of his return to Suna. 

Gaara isn’t sure he can withstand being shut out like that a second time… but it seems somewhat hypocritical to expect honesty without offering it in return.

‘You aren’t doing anyone any favours by pushing yourself like this,’ he finally begins, ‘you shouldn’t even be out of bed yet.’ 

Naruto’s expression hardens.

‘I _told_ you already, I’m fine!’

‘No.’ Gaara tilts his chin up: a resolute stone standing against the relentless crashing wave that is Naruto. ‘Don’t you understand, Naruto? You’re only making things more difficult for yourself. Those shinobi only thank you for your words of encouragement because they can’t hear the traces of doubt within your words -- because they can’t see the exhaustion behind the front. You do your friends and comrades a disservice when you lie to them, Naruto. You pour every drop of yourself into helping every single person around you -- and then won’t allow anyone to help _you_.’ 

The twin spots of pink from before have spread into a full, deep flush that dusts across Naruto’s cheekbones and all the way up to the tips of his ears. Dangling by his side, his left hand clenches into a white-knuckled fist that twitches and trembles along with his bottom lip. 

‘I’m not _lying_ \--’ his voice cracks mid-sentence ‘--to anyone.’

The second of broken eye contact speaks volumes. Gaara sighs. 

‘Perhaps “lying” is too strong a word,’ he concedes, making every attempt to gentle his voice. ‘I know -- the intent behind your actions is not dishonest. Putting others before yourself is just… who you are.’ Gaara unfolds his arms and lays a hand over his chest, fingers bunching the material into his fist. ‘Were you any different, I would be not be here. I owe my life to your selflessness -- as do countless others. There isn't a single shinobi unaware of what you did for us.’

Despite his best efforts, emotion manages to creep into his tone and roughen the edges of his words. By contrast, Naruto's hard expression softens perceptively, lips parting for a silent inhale. 

‘ _Gaara_ …’

‘I understand. I know the appeal of doing things on your own. Of not having to rely on anyone else. But there are times when you will stumble and fall -- and if you keep pushing people away, there will be no one left to catch you.’ His hand trembles. ‘You are _worrying_ people, Naruto.’ A pause. A heavy swallow. Beneath his grip, his heart thuds to a staccato rhythm. ‘You are worrying _me_.’

Gaara closes his eyes, near-overwhelmed by the surge of sentimentality that threatens to boil over the threshold. When brought face-to-face with the sheer wealth of his feelings for Naruto, it becomes increasingly more difficult to maintain the neutral façade. His desire to remain objective, to coax out the truth with careful logic and reasoning, wars with a much deeper longing to simply _feel_ and _express_ those emotions and-- 

There’s a gentle pressure on his right upper arm. Gaara’s eyes flash open again to find that, during those few moments of self-reflection, Naruto had at some point silently closed the space between them. He stands stunned, rigid with disbelief, as Naruto then steps further into what can only be the beginnings of an _embrace_ , burying his face against Gaara’s shoulder. 

Physical affection is still such an alien concept to him, near-paralyzing in its strangeness, that Gaara is momentarily able to do little more than stare straight ahead. It’s not until he hears the first audible sob -- until he feels the barely restrained trembling of Naruto’s body against his own -- that Gaara snaps out of his reverie. This is not the time to lament over his lack of experience. 

His free hand finds its place on Naruto’s ribcage and the grip on his upper arm tightens. He pauses, still again save from the fluttering pulse in the side of his throat, and tries desperately not to over-analyse every tiny movement or response. When finally satisfied that reciprocation was the right thing to do, Gaara carefully retrieves his pinned hand from between their bodies and finds his breath catching as Naruto immediately shifts to better fill the newly-available space. Gripped by a surge of giddy recklessness, Gaara throws all remaining caution to the wind and fully envelops Naruto within both arms, firmly pressing the two of them together.

‘I’m sorry.’ Naruto’s voice rumbles against Gaara’s chest, muffled by fabric and thick with tears. ‘ _I’m sorry_.’ All Gaara can think to do is hold him tighter, and listen as it all -- finally, _finally_ \-- begin to tumble out. ‘I promised to make a better world... I kept on telling people I’d “figure it out” -- but what if I can’t do it? So much got destroyed. So many people _died_ … Who’re they gonna blame for that? What’s gonna happen when everyone returns to their villages? What if--’ His voice catches, his body once again wracked by shivers. ‘ _What if I was wrong?_ Vowing to stop the cycle of hatred… all by myself… I’m such an idiot...’

For a long moment, Gaara can do little more than tangle his fingers in orange fabric and mentally sift through the sheer wealth of words he has been entrusted with. It is one thing to speculate on the source of Naruto’s pain, but another thing entirely to have those thoughts and theories so suddenly confirmed in the midst of a whirlwind confession. Where to even begin.

‘You’re not an idiot.’ It’s the first thing that he needs to set straight, peeling himself away from the embrace just enough that he can drive the message home by having Naruto meet his gaze. Unshed tears still lurk at the corners of shining blue eyes, whiskered cheeks smeared with the remnants of those that escaped. ‘Except in thinking that you have no choice but to shoulder this burden alone.’

A crooked smile finds its way onto Naruto’s lips, nose scrunching as tries to sniff through apparently blocked nostrils. 

‘But it’s _my_ burden, Gaara. I can’t ask anyone to--’

‘You don’t have to _ask_ anyone.’ There’s a fierce intensity in his face and tone that surprises even Gaara. ‘The moment you set things in motion, people will gravitate towards your cause. Lend you their strengths. Cover your weaknesses. This is not the kind of task that can be accomplished alone, Naruto -- surely even you can see that?’

Naruto’s response is to drop his forehead against Gaara’s shoulder once more, though Gaara cannot be sure if he’s avoiding the prolonged eye contact or the stark truth in his words.

Perhaps both.

‘It would be incredibly naïve,’ Gaara says, murmuring practically against Naruto’s ear, ‘to hope for overnight peace. There will undoubtedly be those who will seek to take advantage of our diminished numbers, those who will rebel against the changing tides that you helped set into motion. That much is inevitable. _However_ ,’ he hastens to continue, upon hearing Naruto’s sharp inhale, ‘you shouldn’t be so quick to lose faith in the Alliance. The bonds of camaraderie are not so easily broken -- _as you well know_. As Kazekage, I swear that I will do my part to maintain those bonds. And so will the other Kage.’ 

Naruto grunts in reply, though Gaara can feel his body ease up a little as the knots in his muscles, at last, begin to unravel. 

‘Even with the distance, the friendships forged between those from different nations will not fade. I know this, Uzumaki Naruto, because my feelings for you did not suffer even the slightest despite our time spent apart.’

It’s Naruto’s turn to slightly pull away this time, though once again they seem unable to _completely_ remove themselves from each other’s grasp. He frowns at Gaara, though it seems born less of displeasure and more of… _searching_ for something. Whether or not he finds what he’s looking _for_ , Gaara cannot say, but there’s certainly a new gentleness that dawns in those sky blue eyes within a few moments of staring. Something about that look sends tendrils of hot and cold twisting in the pit of Gaara’s stomach. 

It’s not wholly unwelcome. 

‘You are an inspiration to everyone you meet,’ he carries on, not daring to acknowledge those fledgling implications any longer, ‘you are the catalyst for change. Simply by continuing on as you are, I have no doubt that you will bring peace to this world. Don’t lose sight of your goals -- and don’t be afraid to _let_ others help you achieve them. Everyone has a part to play in obtaining the future we seek.’

Silence falls once more, and it is as companionable as can be. The wind ruffles through leaves and hair alike, green and red and gold gently dancing in the warm breeze. Naruto releases his grip on Gaara’s upper arm in order to wipe the back of his sleeve across his cheeks, and when he reveals his face again Gaara is blessed with a smile like sunrise. 

‘I guess I just thought… everything would go back to how it was before. Back to normal.’ He giggles, shakily. ‘Kinda dumb, huh? We never really _had_ a “normal” to go back to.’

‘For all we have lost, we have gained so much more. We cannot let nostalgia cloud our judgement. Winning the fight... that was only ever going to be the beginning. The most important thing is that you rebuild, better and stronger than before. Whatever world you-- _we_ end up creating, I have no doubt it will be better than the one we left behind.’

‘Jeeze.’ Naruto laughs. ‘When Sakura told me you’d won over the entire Alliance with one speech, I kinda thought she’d been exaggerating… You’re amazing, Gaara. Thank you.’

Those words, coupled with the fact that Gaara still has Uzumaki Naruto wrapped up in his arms, are almost too much to bear. Colour stains his cheeks and he clears his throat at his sudden loss of words, unable to conceal his smile by merely averting his gaze. 

‘... You are welcome. Always.’

They finally disentangle from one-another, though Gaara can still feel the phantom press of Naruto’s body against his own: a warmth that will never fade. Naruto stretches his arm up and behind his head, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh that seems to take the rest of the tension with it. Gaara mirrors his glance back through the trees, to the path that had lead them here. It is probably time they return to the camp.

Without a word, they seamlessly fall into step, walking side-by-side. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gaara watches Naruto. The bounce has returned to his step, along with the spark of light harboured within that again-confident gaze, behind which new thoughts and ideas are no doubt already beginning to sprout. Whatever it is Naruto chooses to do, Gaara will be right there to support him in it. Whether this is the last conversation they have on the subject, or simply the first -- Gaara has a feeling that his dearest friend will now be more receptive to others’ attempts to unbottling any pent-up concerns. 

And for that, he is satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> I run a [narugaa discord server](https://discord.gg/nrJCuDf), please feel free to come along and join if you'd like to talk about these good boys. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading/commenting/leaving kudos. I appreciate you all so much.


End file.
